The Vial of Uruk
by darkvampiregirl13
Summary: This is the story of Bartimaeus before he became a djinni. It was... an intetersting life.. Of course, we have to throw a little wrench into the equation; a small, innocent-looking vial containing quite an interesting substance. T for some violence and maybe some cussing.


_Ok. Let's get the stupid, pointless, necessary business part out of the way. Disclaimer: I do not own the Bartimaeus Trilogy. (Though saying so… do you think Mr. Stroud would give me ownership of the series if I asked 'pretty please with a cherry on top?')_

_I've written other fanfics before, so you know, check them out? They are very good (not)!_

_Shaddup other voice. (no)_

_So... you know, you really don't even have to read this... just leave a review..._

_Yeah I'm weird. So, onto the story of our hero, Bartimaeus, Sakr-Al Djinni, Serpent of the Silver Plumes, Yada yada yada…_

Prologue

I finished drawing the last runes of the pentacle and stood up. Dusting off myself, I walked back to admire my work. Every mark was precise. There was not a smudge, nor the slightest waver in the lines. A perfect job, if I do say so myself. And I do.

"Not bad for your first time," my master, an old idiot supposedly called* Craedius commented. "But that line is a bit off. Such a mistake could cost you your life when dealing with creatures such as demons."

I tilted me head and put let my index finger tap thoughtfully while staring at the line, then got on all fours and assessed it even more carefully. This was done, of course, while making sure that I would not dirty my beautiful - I mean, manly - auburn hair. Finally, after closely examining it for about half an hour (during which time I tried to climb onto my master's back; he swatted my off with his stupid, ugly, wooden fan), I got up, placed my hands behind my back, and cleared my throat, signaling my readiness to speak.

"I see," I said gravelly, my colorless, silver eyes unusually solemn. "This lesson I have learned today was most invaluable, and may come to save my life. I have learned," here I adopted a sneering expression, eyes becoming alive with insolence, "that you are an idiot. Look it up. There are many books that show this pentacle. This is one of the most basic ones out there. Show me the mistake if you can." I crossed my bronze-colored arms in satisfied arrogance.

The old** man growled. "Boy, you had better learn some manners or I will – "

"Will what?" I goaded. "Be glad you haven't yet died, old fool." With that I snapped my fingers. A djinni of moderate power appeared. My master stepped back, and right before my servant acted, I saw several emotions flicker across his face: shock, hurt, and anger.

It was quite amusing actually.***

Then my djinni**** attacked. An Inferno appeared in his unhealthily pale palm, casting eerie shadows over its grinning face. My master ran – stumbled – tripped – fell – and landed on the ground with a grunt. Aksharti drew his arm back, the blue flame licking the air around his hand, and then swung it towards my master. Craedius's crimson eyes widened, and he rolled out of the way just in time. The resulting impact of the flames on the stone sent a shockwave ricocheting across the room and I was blown backwards against the wall.

"Uungh!" I cried out as my back was met by hardened mud. Gee, I had never noticed how hard this building was.

At the same time, my master was also sent flying backwards. Before he could feel the pain of being smashed against the house, however, blue flames from a second and third Inferno enveloped and obliterated him.

And with that, my most recent***** master was gone.

Why did I kill him? It wasn't as if he was a terrible person. No, it was merely because I had received a letter from an extremely powerful magician and I could not be apprenticed to two people at once. I'll just pass this off as a tragic accident and move on. No one will dare to question it. No one will bother. After all, I am a mere apprentice, am I not?

I walked to my bed – a pathetic, uncomfortable thing made of straw – and picked up a small satchel I concealed at the other side of it, which I had packed almost immediately after I received the invitation. Inside the bag were a few gold coins, a hairbrush, a fist-sized crystal sphere, and a few magical trinkets I could use or sell if necessary. On the way out, I grabbed for myself a loaf of bread and a leather pouch for water.

"Ahem." A cough behind interrupted my concentration.

"What?" I snapped irritably, whitewashed orbs meeting blue ones in annoyance. "Oh. Right." I had forgotten all about the demon. "I will dismiss you right away. Just be silent for a moment here, will you? And for the love of Ishtar, can you please _hold still_ for a moment?" The thing had begun speeding through the house, appearing for a moment in one place, staring intently at an object, before disappearing and reappearing somewhere else. It was dizzying.

"Dismiss me_ now_," the thing demanded, suddenly reappearing uncomfortably close in front of me. I took an instinctive step back before regaining my composure.

"Yes, yes, I am working on that." I shut my colorless eyes for a moment in concentration before opening them again and chanting the necessary words of dismissal. Right before we left, he lit a spark on the tips of his fingers and set a small fire at the edge of the room as we had agreed.

A thin trail of smoke curled up, ghostlike, from the newborn flame.

And then he was gone.

I stared enviously at the place where he had disappeared not moments before. How wonderful it would be to be able to do just that! To leave this world behind and to travel to another…

Then, shaking my head to clear such troublesome, unnecessary thoughts, I stepped outside the threshold of my home. Of what _was_ my home.

Looking back at the small house my master and I had occupied, I felt a twinge of guilt. Them, taking a deep breath, I screamed.

In the craziness that ensued, I made my escape. Hopping onto the back of our only horse, a strong, well-bred (and, for the past few days in preparation of this event, well-fed as well) one, I tapped the side of its body and we were off.

I rode with no direction for what seemed like an eternity then slowed down slightly to identify my surroundings. I was in one of the wilderness regions separating the city-states of Sumer. The sun had started to dive behind the tall, distant mountains, and I could feel the beginnings of a crisp chill signaling the arrival of the night. A shiver ran down my spine as I felt a wind run its ghostlike fingers along my body, enveloping me within its cold embrace.

I allowed the horse to guide us, enjoying my precious moments of freedom. I closed my eyes. I smelled the fresh scent of grass, of the water in the lake we had passed earlier, and…

Horse poop.

I groaned, covering my nose with one hand and trying to suppress my urge to gag. I reached into my satchel and pulled out the crystal ball, attempting futilely to crush the delicate-looking orb, but was met with no success.

I lost patience and smashed the thing onto the rocky ground beneath us.

A whirl of lilac cloud was emitted by the orb, followed by a foul stench and a ghastly scream, which spooked the horse. It reared up on two legs; unprepared, I was thrown off. I landed on the ground, hard, with a cry, and the horse, realizing it was free of its burden, ran off into the distance. I scowled at its retreating figure but did nothing save for struggling to my feet.

A few minutes later I had sat down in a huff, pouting slightly. That was when it _finally_ appeared.

"Are you awaiting someone?" the figure asked. He was of average height - a head taller than me - and possessed black hair. His skin was slightly darker than mine, but not as much as some of the children who I have seen ruining their complexion under the sun around here.

"Yup."

"Who may this be?"

"You."

"Why do you say this?"

"Who, other than the one sent by my master, would wander the wilderness at this time?" _Not to mention you are holding a tablet with my name written upon it. _

"But you did not reply as the master said you would."

I rolled my silvery eyes. "Yes, demon, I am. I was waiting for the messenger my master promised to send; you. It is none of your business, demon."

The creature smiled, its lips stretching painfully against its sharp cavern of teeth. "Welcome then, boy." It lifted me in one hand and my satchel in its other and flew off. By now the sun had set completely, although the sky still stubbornly clung on to a few dwindling rays that dyed it pink.

I felt a tightness in my chest that I had never experienced before. It was neither nervousness nor fear, but homesickness. For all my previous masters were located within the walls of that one city. And now I was leaving it, perhaps forever. Although I had never thought much of the city, I did now. I would miss those loud traders whose shouts I woke to every morning. Those children and their obnoxious laughter. The scholars who were so self-centered. That shopkeeper Aksharti and I loved to torment.

I felt a gust of wind ruffling my hair, and, unbidden, a lone tear slipped out of my eyes. I wiped it furiously away, looking away and plaintively ignoring the questioning gaze my ride was giving me.

It shrugged as though it didn't care. At least, I think the sick, upward lurching motion was a shrug.

Then the thing carrying me began to sing. It was a strange, wistful melody, of which words I did not recognize, but it mirrored my mood perfectly, and I listened.

_*Magicians are idiots who hide their real names, their birth names, so that no one else would have power over them. The best hiding place is right in front of the seeker. I am not going to hide my name. When the time comes that I may pick my name, I am going to proudly showcase it to the world. And no one will even begin to suspect that Bartimaeus is my birth name. Though if you tell anyone …._

_**Actually, his hair made him appear older than he truly was. The silvery whiteness of his hair and red eyes were due to some demon-related accident the occurred when he was an apprentice, or so he claimed. He himself was in his mid-twenties. _

_***His face was bright red. It's funny seeing such a well-respected magician scream._

****_Aksharti was a personal favorite of mine. He was a djinni of the seventh level, but unlike other of his kind, he was more inclined towards angelic forms than those of savage beasts. For example, here he wore the guise of a young, tall, white-skinned boy bearing feathery wings upon its back, golden curly locks, and bright blue eyes. He was clothed in a somewhat modest style which probably made him feel even more superior to the rest of us as a result. Anyhow, he was the first potent demon I had summoned, and quite obedient too, given you treat him with praise and a foliot or two at times._

_*****I've been apprenticed to three this past year, each more powerful than the next, each dying for the chance to teach me. Quite literally, actually._

_I could have published this in fictionpress, but I did not. What I am saying is… um … well… ah… how do I say this? _

_Leave some bloody reviews._

_Please._

_**Sooooooooooo a little more about this story: I whisked this up on a whim a few hundred (kidding) months ago, but, unsatisfied at how it turned out, decided not to publish it. Then school killed me with the gentleness of a bulldozer. And then a couple of weeks I found this story by some luck and decided to improve it. And then I forgot to save the changes. And then I got depressed. And then I felt like writing again. And then I accidentally deleted half the story while editing out some part. And then I got depressed again. And then I felt like writing again. And then I wrote this. And if you actually read this, comment "Bob says hi" along with whatever you thought of this story. And then "like" the Facebook page Bartimaeus. If you look through the posts, 90% of the stuff is posted by admin Faquarl. **_

_**So a week after someone guesses which admin I am on that page is when the next chapter of this is coming out. Fair? **_


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